


That One Time we Explored an Abandoned House

by ConCorpRepresentative



Category: Hermitcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 02:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21047120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConCorpRepresentative/pseuds/ConCorpRepresentative
Summary: Iskall and Grian convince Mumbo to explore the local Abandoned (and possibly haunted) house.





	That One Time we Explored an Abandoned House

“Oh come on, Mumbo.” Grian sat on the garden wall, egging on his friend.

“Well it doesn’t really seem like the best choice, does it?” He replied, shrugging.

“When has any of our choices been the best choice?” Iskall asked, grinning with excitement, “Come on Mumbo, it’s a bit of fun!”

“It’s breaking and entering!”

“No-one lives there.”

“It’s still a crime!”

“Not if you’re caught!”

Mumbo paused, his mind catching up to the conversation. He loved the sleepovers they had, but he also loved sleep.

“Fine. But only if there’s a reward.”

“Re…ward?” Grian asked, cocking his head, “What do you want a reward for?”

“Going into a potentially haunted house!”

Iskall burst out laughing, leaving the other two in silence as he finished his little hysteria-fest.

“Ghosts aren’t real, Mumbo!” He wiped tears from the corners of his eyes.

Mumbo’s face flushed red, but he stood his ground.

“Okay, well you may think that, but I believe in the paranormal.” He blinked, “And I want a reward.”

Grian stood.

“Right,” He said, “We all pool in ten quid. Last person to leave the house gets all of it.”

“Free 30 pounds? I’m in.” Iskall smugly grinned.

“Fine.” Mumbo relented.

They all made their way down the dirt path, into the garden of the house. The house in question had been abandoned since before Mumbo and Grian had moved in. Iskall had told them that someone was murdered in there- but they knew their friend had a tendency to exaggerate- such as adding ‘Of Doom’ to just about every building or place in the neighbourhood.

The trio did stop, however, when they reached the door. They hadn’t even thought about what they’d do if they had got that far, so they stood there for a good few minutes before Iskall made a move.

He pushed, first. Then shoved, then barged- yet still the door didn’t budge.

“Oh no, would you look at that! Well, guess we can’t go in! What a shame!” Mumbo exclaimed, turning to leave- but Grian grabbed him by the arm.

“The window, Mumbo. The window.” Grian whispered, pointing to a boarded up window just to the side of the door. Mumbo sighed, reluctantly following his friends to the window.

Grian began to try and pull the wooden planks from the window, but it was clear to see that he wasn’t necessarily the strongest. Iskall pushed him out of the way, and in one hard tug, he pulled each board from the window and dumped it on the floor.

Letting out a gasp, Iskall recoiled, stepping back from the group.

“What is it?” Mumbo asked, sufficiently spooked. Iskall smiled, lifting his hand. Blood was dripping from the palm of his hand, seemingly pierced by the rusty screws nailed into the wood.

“Dude what if you get tetanus?” Mumbo whispered, staying away from Iskall.

“Dude, what if ghosts take your bones?” He retorted, snorting at Mumbo’s reaction.

Grian, by this point, was already through the window. He stood triumphant, as the first one of the friends into the abandoned house, and raised a particularly rude hand gesture as proof. Iskall followed, keeping his hand firmly on Mumbo’s shoulder- just to make sure he didn’t chicken out.

This was quite a funny sight, seeing Iskall struggle to keep his hand on his friend. You see, Mumbo was very tall- taller than Iskall, and far taller than Grian. At the best of times, he liked to say he was six foot, but his friends both knew he reached six foot five. Grian, on the other hand, liked to brag about being seven foot- when in reality he barely scraped past five foot six.

Once they were all securely inside, Grian turned to face his friends.

“Right. Now we’re in, we can’t leave. Not until only one of us is left.”

“Okay.” Mumbo said, “That’s great and all, but what do we actually do in here?”

Grian opened his mouth to say something, but then paused. Iskall and Mumbo looked at him expectantly, before he shrugged.

“I actually don’t have a clue. I kinda expected the house to make its own fun. Explore I guess?”

And explore they did.

Scouting around the bottom floor first, Grian confidently led the gang to the kitchen and began rooting around the cupboards. Iskall sat on the kitchen side, and Mumbo stood by the table.

Mumbo noticed that there were two plates of food on the table- still steaming hot. He felt chills rush down his spine as he stood staring at the food. It was an abandoned house.

“Iskall, how old is this house?” His voice was hoarse.

“Uh, I seem to remember it being abandoned when I was about 8? It had flooded in the winter previous, so it was unsellable.”

“Cool; then why is there food on the table?”

Iskall and Grian looked towards the table, staring for a few seconds.

“It  _ must  _ be a ghost.” Iskall taunted, nudging Mumbo.

Grian laughed, leaving the kitchen and strolled through the hall.

“What actually happened then?” He shouted back into the kitchen. Iskall grinned, raising his eyebrows at Mumbo.

“Well… Scar told me that Cub told him that his uncle told him that his grandfather told him that it was just after the war.” Iskall picked out a tin of beans from the cupboard, “A couple lived here or something. They lost their kid, and the man went bonkers with grief. Killed his wife, that’s what I was told.”

“Brilliant.” Mumbo muttered.

“Scar also said that Cub had told him the husband used an axe to kill his wife.”

“I knew Cub was morbid at times, but that’s just mental.” Mumbo hissed, “Why would he say that?”

“An axe?” Grian called.

“Yeah.” Iskall dropped the tin on his floor and left the kitchen. Mumbo, terrified, burst after him.

Grian was stood by the front door, examining why it was jammed shut. He pointed at the door frame.

“Like that axe?” He said. As the other two stood beside him, they saw that there was something there. There was a long axe stuck between the door frame, keeping it shut.

“Yeah, nope. I’m not doing this.” Mumbo walked to the window, and put his foot up on the windowsill.

“Already?” Grian grinned, “Better hand over the tenner.”

Mumbo glared, putting his foot down and walking back to them.

“Let’s go into the sitting room.” He stood in front of Grian, looking down on him. Grian looked up, a smug grin on his face.

“Come on then, lovebirds.” Iskall snorted, leading them into the living room.

There were three long sofas, along with a grand armchair. A beautiful fireplace acted as a shelf for a grand clock, as well as what used to be a vase of flowers. Grian ran over to the fireplace, and looked up it.

“What are you doing?” Mumbo cried, running over to him in a panic.

“Looking, duh.” Grian grinned.

Something fell from the chimney, and hit Grian in the face. He screamed, falling back and splattering black all over the carpet. His hair, and half of his face was coated in soot, and he sneezed.

“What was that?” He backed away from the fireplace, his facade of confidence broken.

Mumbo leant down, and picked up the thing that had fallen from the chimney- a bit of paper. Taking in a breath of confidence, he took the folded paper and opened it. 

“What does it say?” Iskall asked. Mumbo furrowed his eyebrows.

“I actually can’t read that. The handwriting is pants.”

Iskall leant over Grian and took the paper from his friend. After a few seconds of reading, he cleared his throat and began to read aloud.

“_One life before I had my son_

_ And my precious wife _

_ But he was taken, and then she, _

_Taken by the eyes_.”

“Oh god.” Mumbo fell back onto the sofa.

“Wife? Eyes?” Iskall muttered, “Is that meant to rhyme?”

Grian stood, attempting to regain confidence. He took the piece of paper and tore it in two.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

As he finished the sentence, the lights in the room flickered. This would’ve been normal, if it weren’t for the fact that they hadn’t turned any lights on. As they turned off and plunged the room into darkness, both Grian and Mumbo let out a cry of fear.

“Where’s your confidence now, G-man?” Iskall laughed. Grian playfully smacked him, feigning offence.

“And you’re not scared?” Mumbo asked.

“Not at all! Why would I-” He paused, wheezing, “Why would I be scared?” 

Once again, Iskall burst into a laughing fit, leaving the other two standing and waiting. Despite their unwillingness to, eventually all three were laughing. Iskall stopped as red liquid began to drip upon his face. He looked up, and from the light fixture, more of the liquid dripped from the chandelier.

The horror of the situation dawned on him, and Iskall screamed. He fell backwards onto the sofa.

“It’s blood! It’s blood!” He began to freak out further, and the other two came to his side. Mumbo began to curse under his breath, and Grian lifted Iskall and began to make their way to the door.

“Mumbo, where’s the axe?” Grian asked.

“The axe?” He replied.

They reached the door, now all sufficiently terrified. Mumbo looked up, to the door. The axe that had been jamming the door shut was gone- and none of them had moved it.

“Oh no… This was a bad idea, this was a bad idea.” Iskall began muttering. They all fell silent.

“ _ Wife… _ ” A fourth voice echoed from down the stairs, “ _ My Wife… _ ”

They screamed.

Mumbo was the first person to turn around, and Mumbo was the first person to see the figure running down the stairs. Then Grian and Iskall turned.

Coming down the stairs was a figure- a man. The man wore a bandana and a hood, wearing clothing that looked like it dated to just after the second world war. The figure- the ghost- held an axe.

“OH MY GOD!” Iskall screamed, and the three friends sprinted from the house.

They ran and ran, and didn’t look back. Never again would they doubt the myths and rumours about the ghost of the abandoned house. Never again would they doubt that ghosts existed. 

If the three friends had stayed in the house for a moment longer, however, they would’ve bared witness to the ghost burst out laughing. They would’ve seen the ‘ghost’ remove the bandana and the hood, and cry out to his friend. 

“CUB! WE DID IT!” The 'ghost' laughed. From the second floor came walking a second figure.

“I have to say, Scar, that might’ve been our best prank yet.”

“I think so too, Cub.” Scar laughed, high fiving Cub, “Ghosts aren’t real.”

“Yeah,” Cub laughed, “Who would believe that?”


End file.
